


Hermione's Hangover

by SailorButterfli



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dramionelove Mini Fest 2017, F/M, Ficlet, Hangover, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 08:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12250857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorButterfli/pseuds/SailorButterfli
Summary: “Did we..” she trailed off for a moment. “Of course we did, why else would you have brought me home. But no," she paused, "you’re Malfoy. You don’t touch anyone but purebloods. So no, certainly not. Then why bring me home? Oh..” her eyes met his and she was infuriated to see the humor in his face, “you must have been drunk too. That must be it. Of course.”She stopped and looked at him expectantly.“Don’t look at me for answers Granger. You seem to have it all figured out.”





	Hermione's Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I was not supposed to be writing this. I've started a Loki x Sigyn story (sort of) and already outlined a whole nother Usagi x Vegeta story and yet this little one-shot came to me and now here we are. So please enjoy and send me lots of flames for not working on what I'm supposed to. I deserve it <3 <3 <3

It was the day that Hermione Granger woke up with the worst hangover of her life.

She groaned softly as she pried apart her eyes, quickly closing them again against the soft light coming into the bedroom. Pain had exploded in her head and she wasn’t looking forward to repeating the experience. The brunette sighed and rolled on her side away from the light. She dragged one hand through her hair which felt as wild as it had been in school.

While she lay there she rubbed her cheek against her sheets thinking how much softer they felt than normal. Must be the hangover. Finally, she forced her eyes apart once more and upon doing so bolted upright. This was not her room.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she squinted against the light but refused to close her eyes once more. Her gaze darted from one corner of the room to the other. Realization dawned on her and one hand came up over her mouth. She had gone home with someone last night.

The pretty brunette dropped her head in her hands feeling a nights worth of tangles. How stupid. How completely idiotic. She searched her memories of yesterday evening, her quick mind dulled by the remainder of the alcohol. Why had she gotten so drunk in the first place?

Oh yes, Ron and his little tramp. Though honestly, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t know if Lavender had been aware that they were trying to repair their relationship. Apparently, Ron thought when she had said take some time apart that meant start seeing other people. Or at least sleeping with them. God, she was so stupid, she knew he had still harbored some sort of attraction to Lavender. Despite him denying it repeatedly.

So she had started drinking. Not the smartest move but her heart had been in pieces seeing them cozied up in the corner. Harry and Ginny had asked her repeatedly if she was okay and she had nodded quickly and moved away. Even drunk Hermione knew she couldn’t be near her friends for too long or they would catch on to either her heartache or that fact that she was completely plastered.

Her next few memories were hazy. She remembered dancing, her body swaying with the pulse of the music. The dark hiding her hurt. The thrash of bodies doing wonders for distracting her. Then she was outside, a rough male voice sent tingles down her spine. The smell of cigarettes and good whiskey. Her mystery man. Suddenly she remembered something else, his eyes.

“Oh no.” She groaned as the final piece of the puzzle slid home. At the same time, the door opened and the same pair of gray eyes from her memory stared at her from the doorway. Hermione wanted to crawl under the blankets and Disapparate back to her own empty bed. Certainly, Malfoy had spells around his house though that prevented anyone but a select few to work that kind of magic in his own home.

“Good morning Granger,” his condescending drawl was too familiar and the smugness in his tone set off warning bells. 

“Did we..” she trailed off for a moment. “Of course we did, why else would you have brought me home. But no," she paused, "you’re Malfoy. You don’t touch anyone but purebloods. So no, certainly not. Then why bring me home? Oh..” her eyes met his and she was infuriated to see the humor in his face, “you must have been drunk too. That must be it. Of course.”

She stopped and looked at him expectantly.

“Don’t look at me for answers Granger. You seem to have it all figured out.”

“Malfoy,” she wailed not caring that he cringed at the shrillness in her voice. She couldn’t help it. She had slept with Malfoy. And not only did everyone probably see them leave together but she didn’t even remember it. Wasn’t he supposed to be some kind of sex god? It was probably great.

Her honey colored eyes scanned him in the doorway. One shoulder was propped against the frame, arms crossed. His pale blonde hair was tousled, probably by her fingers, she thought moodily. He still had a seeker build, slender and well-muscled. Harry told her that he played pick up with them on occasion but that he worked too much to join a team. Her eyes ran over him again, definetly still in shape.

“You done?” The tall blonde took a few steps into the room. His voice had warmed and held just a pinch of masculine pride. There was no mistaking that she had been checking him out. Her cheeks burned and that just amused him more.

“No Granger, we did not sleep together.”

He didn’t miss her sigh of relief and honestly wasn’t surprised. While he had actually come to something that resembled a truce with Potter, the other two members of the Gryffindor royalty had little contact with him.

“Why did you bring me to your house then?”

Malfoy stared over her head and out the window that dominated most of the southern wall. That was an excellent question she asked, he still wasn’t entirely sure of the answer to it either.

“What do remember from last night?”

She opened her mouth to answer and suddenly it all came rushing back to her.

 _She had only enjoyed the noise and swaying bodies for a short while before it became too much and she stumbled to the door. The metal had been cool beneath her fingertips and she had to resist the urge to rest her head there. The night air was even cooler though and it beckoned her outside._  
_  
Her heels had clicked against the pavement and reminded her of her sore feet. She stopped for a moment and slipped them off before walking around the corner of the building to tip her head back against the towering brick structure._

_How could Ron bring her here? In front of all their friends? She hadn’t even really told Ginny and Harry they were having problems._

_She rubbed the heel of her palm against the tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. The pretty brunette didn’t want to be crying over him but her she was doing it anyway. Suddenly their break seemed more like a break up._

_“Crying over that cretin Granger?”_

_A voice, familiar, called from the shadows. Before she could answer Malfoy appeared from the dark, cigarette dangling from his long fingers. His tie had been loosened and his jacket discarded. Even in her state, Hermione had to admit he made quite the picture. As usual, though his snarky attitude ruined the handsome figure he presented._

_“Malfoy,” she started her voice hardening for a moment before she let out a long sigh. Honestly, she wasn’t in the mood for verbally sparring with the Slytherin Prince. He raised a single pale eyebrow when she let his barb go._

_“Why do men have to be so.. so..”_

_“Don’t you dare lump me in with that miserable excuse for a wizard.”_

_“We were supposed to just take some time apart. I was going to stay with my parents for a couple weeks. He would stay at the apartment, we’d talk about us when I got back. It wasn’t supposed to be a.. we weren’t.. done. You know?”_

_Malfoy didn’t know. In fact, he wasn’t even sure Granger was talking to him anymore. She was just standing there, looking forlorn, staring at the stars like they might hold some answers. Even though he knew the disdain she held for the art of Divination._

_“Is Lavender prettier than me Malfoy? Is that all it is? She’s probably more compliant. She won’t push him. She’d be happy being a carbon copy of Mrs. Weasley. I don’t want to be his mother Malfoy!”_

_Her large brown eyes full of insecurity pinned Malfoy to the spot. What was going on here? Was she that drunk or had he somehow stumbled into an alternate timeline where he and Granger were confidants? Doubtful. The blonde man ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further and he almost just walked away. This wasn’t his problem._

_Unfortunately, he was a sucker for a damsel in distress and while in general Granger did not fit that description tonight she did. He stepped forward while she watched him with her sad eyes._

_“In no way, no universe is Lavender better, or prettier, than you Granger.”_

_“Her hair in nicer.”_

_Malfoy snorted as he eyed the curls that framed Granger’s face. Unbidden his hand reached out to brush them away from her cheek. They were softer than he would have thought. He wasn’t sure why he had imagined them to be coarse._

_“That’s all a matter of opinion.” His voice was rougher now and Hermione’s gaze had gone from unhappy to confused. Malfoy stepped back from her as she stumbled away from the wall._

_“I need to go home.”_

_Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment and then snapped back open. She fumbled for her wand but was waylaid by Malfoy’s hand on hers._

_“Guess that answers the question as to how drunk you are.” He couldn’t believe the witch would try to apparate this intoxicated. She’d probably splinch herself in half and he would somehow be blamed. No not a chance._

_“Whats your parent's address Granger. Granger!” Malfoy lurched forward to catch the curly haired brunette as she nose-dived for the pavement._

_“Oh fuck.”_

She couldn’t believe she had gotten so wasted that Malfoy had to take her home. It also boggled her mind that instead of leaving her there he bothered to take her home at all.

“I guess I owe you.” Hermione finally said to the smirking face of the blonde man.

“Oh my, to have a favor from Hermione Granger,” he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. Hermione caught her bottom lip in her teeth and worried at it nervously. Malfoy had changed, hadn’t he? She had heard he had donated large sums of money to the various charities set up after Voldemort. He had personally spoken out publicly against the few remaining hate groups that were slowly fizzling out. Still, no one would ever mistake Malfoy for Prince Charming. Because underneath his charm there was still a thread of darkness.

“Well, I suppose I should go.” Hermione went to get out of bed only to realize she was not in the dress she had been wearing the night before.

“Malfoy..” her voice had taken on a dangerous pitch, “did you..”

“Oh don’t be a prude Granger, I wasn’t going to leave you in that dress. It had someone’s drink spilled all down one side and dirt smeared all over the bottom.”

Her eyes went wide and she sputtered out an expletive that made Malfoy’s eyes widen in return. Hermione swung her legs out of bed intending to give Malfoy a piece of her mind when she realized that he had dressed her only in one of his shirts which left quite a bit of leg showing. She watched shocked as his eyes swept over her before she yanked the sheet off the bed.

Malfoy had to admit she cut quite a nice figure in only his shirt. He hadn’t really had time to admire it the night before when he had wrestled her out of the dress. He had been dead tired and a little drunk himself at the time.

“Some of my mother’s things are in the closet. She’s taller than you but I’m sure you can make something work. Breakfast is downstairs.”

Hermione was left mouth hanging open as Malfoy swept out of the room. She had been mentally trying to formulate the words to get her out of there as fast as she could but now she was apparently having breakfast with him.

After tearing through the closet she had come across a pair of soft gray pants, probably pajama bottoms but nicer than any of her works slacks, and a simple white stretchy top. Thank goodness her bra was still on. She might have lit Malfoy on fire, gracious host or not.

As she walked downstairs she could hear him on a fire call with someone in another room. The kitchen she could see directly to her left and so wandered in there to find eggs still warm on the stove as well as a plate piled with toast. The smell of coffee came from, surprisingly, a muggle coffeepot. Malfoy walked in just as she started opening cabinets to look for a coffee cup. He moved around her to open the cabinet she was looking for and handed her a coffee cup as well as a couple of plates. 

"Interesting coffee maker you have there." 

Malfoy grimaced, "last girlfriend was a half-blood and she said it didn't taste the same made magically. Got me hooked on the damn thing."

Hermione didn't really know what to say to that. It was too much to process before food and coffee. Malfoy dating a half-blood, Malfoy willingly had muggle technology in his home. Malfoy practically admitting that the muggle version was better. 

She filled her plate and sat down at one of the barstools eyeing him curiously when he sat down leaving an empty chair between them. He quickly filled the counter space with different newspapers including the Daily Prophet. Hermione glanced at the cover once and then back again with a groan. There splashed across the front page was a picture of Ron and Lavender and her name with a question mark. 

"Seems your boyfriend made the front page."

"He'll love that. And I believe ex-boyfriend is now appropriate."

"Good thing too, what with you spending the night in another man's bed."

Hermione glared at Malfoy who only smirked back at her and then flipped through a couple other of the papers. One is French, one a muggle newspaper, and the rest more familiar. She had finally had enough time to process all the strangeness. 

"Okay, what is going on."

Malfoy only looked at her blankly. 

"You're drinking muggle coffee, you have a muggle newspaper there, a half-blood girlfriend, and you're being practically civil."

"Technically I have no girlfriend, she dumped me ages ago. As for the rest did you really expect to stay stuck as a snotty 13-year-old kid for the rest of my life? Thanks for the vote of confidence Granger."

She glowered at him, "well you never gave me much reason to think otherwise." His face darkened and reflexively she put her hand on his, "until now of course."

Malfoy glanced down at her small hand on his and she quickly removed it. What was she doing? He wasn't Harry and probably not used to those kinds of friendly gestures. Still, he had looked almost, hurt? And so she had felt bad.

They sat in silence while they finished breakfast. Draco occasionally setting aside pieces he would read later while Hermione thumbed through the familiar pages of the Daily Prophet. Eventually, Draco's eyes drifted over the brunette sitting at his counter. He still couldn't believe he was sitting here, in his house, in rather companionable silence with Hermione Granger. Gryffindor Princess. The girl that he practically tortured through high school. His eyes raked over her arm, girl that his aunt did torture. That still haunted him, not that he would ever mention it but out of all the atrocities he saw committed, knew were committed, that was one of the few that stuck with him. Changed him. He tore his eyes away fist clenching momentarily and crinkling the paper in his hand.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was soft, questioning.

"Nothing."

Hermione let it go. She saw the look in his eyes and compassion flitted through her own gaze. She knew that look. She'd seen it in every one of her schoolmate's faces at various times in their lives since the war. If he didn't want to talk about then she wasn't going to press.

"You told me I was pretty," Hermione said her voice surprised, as if she had just remembered that part of last night. 

She watched Malfoy's shoulders stiffen. He contemplated lying and telling her that he had only said that because he hated crying women, which he did. Instead, he opted for the truth. 

"Well of course you are. I assumed you knew." He said it off-handedly hoping she would let it go. But instead a sneaky smile spread across her lips and Malfoy became wary. 

"I always figured myself for passable," she remarked with a shrug "how long though? In school?"

Malfoy groaned and threw his head back staring at the ceiling. This was what he got for being nice. For bringing her back here. After a moment's pause, he brought his head back down and met her eyes, his own glinting with determination. 

"Yes, in school. When we started out I remember thinking you were just a.. I was prejudiced. But you were so damn smart. I really liked that about you. And then I remember seeing you in the hall one day and it really hit me that.." he trailed off his eyes going wide and Hermione's face turned pink. It sounded to her as if Malfoy wasn't just admitting to thinking she was attractive. It sounded like he actually liked her. 

"Umm.. right well.." Hermione hopped out of the chair while Malfoy let his head thunk onto the counter. He remembered the day she was more than just the brainiac of the Golden Trio. She had been walking down the hall with some other girl. Ginny maybe. She laughed and her eyes lit up and her hand came up over her mouth and he was mesmerized. She was beautiful. How had he missed it? Though thinking back on his own actions maybe he hadn't. Maybe it had always been there but he'd been too blinded by his father's hatred to see it. 

Now he heard her rustling around, retrieving her purse and wand most likely. Then she was mumbling something about going home and he was galvanized into action. This moment was too many years in the making to pass up. She was already at his front door when his hand closed on her arm. 

"Hermione." 

She looked up, her cheeks still bright pink. His voice had taken on a husky quality and he was standing so close. 

"Have lunch with me, tomorrow." 

A thousand things ran through her head. Most of them reasons she should say no. The way he was looking at her, as if she could break him with one word was what prompted her to answer. 

"Okay."

 


End file.
